


Stripes

by inkstainedwretch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Cas in stockings, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedwretch/pseuds/inkstainedwretch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wincestiel porn. Cas in stockings. Light bondage, sub!Cas to a degree. No excuses. No shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stripes

“Fuckin’ _stripes_ —“

Dean stumbles a bit and clutches the door knob, unable to say anything more articulate about the sight before him. Castiel looks up at him from where he lies on the bed, legs spread enticingly wide, showing off the black and white striped stockings that reached halfway up his thighs. Bright red satin panties fit snug against his half-hard cock, as well as the bones of his hand and wrist. From the looks of it, he’s got two fingers inside himself already, and the slick sounds of it carry all the way to Dean’s ears. Cas smiles like he’s been waiting for this all day.

“Hello, Dean.”

Once he puts the scattered pieces of his brain back together, Dean all but pounces onto the bed, tearing his jacket and shirt off and throwing them across the room with very little dignity. Cas hardly moves, except to respond very enthusiastically when Dean takes his face between his hands and kiss him. His fingers keep moving, slow and methodical, and Dean wonders just how long he’s been at this, how long he’s had this planned. Instead of asking, he moves back enough to look Cas in the eye and grin.

“You’ve never worn stripes, before.” He looks back down at the nylon and lace and actually licks his lips at the sight of it. These are definitely new. He’s seen pink and white and blue and green and red, and oftentimes those black ones that are well-worn and soft from being washed so many times, but never stripes.

“Should I wear something else?”

Dean pushes him down by his shoulders, kisses him hard, and then moves his mouth right up to his ear. “Don’t you fucking _dare_.”

He can feel Cas shake and curl his back a little, pressing himself closer to Dean. He knows damn well how this game is played, and Dean can feel how hard he is just from the anticipation. He slides down and slowly kisses his way across Castiel’s body, taking no small amount of pride at the still-healing marks in the shape of teeth and fingers. He’s especially fond of the fingernail marks on his hips, peeking just above the red satin waistband.

He slides the panties down just enough to see that Cas has added a finger, but he hasn’t sped up at all. The nail of his pinky finger scratches against his skin as he curls the rest of them in, then out, in, then out. His other hand lays on the bed, palm facing up, passive and open. Dean takes both wrists and gives Cas a moment to slide his fingers out for good before raising them up above his head, pressing them against the headboard and leaning down to kiss him, again.

“Want me to tie you?” He’s pretty sure he already knows the answer, but the look in Cas’s eyes is so fucking _needy_ that it takes him completely by surprise. He bites his lip and feels his cock twitch; he knew Cas was desperate for it, but clearly he didn’t know how desperate.

“Please.”

He looks over at the nightstand, and there’s Cas’s tie, folded neatly between the lube and the alarm clock. Fucking hell, he’s had this one planned for a long time. Dean takes it and ties both of Cas’s wrists just like he likes it, just tight enough to know he’s tethered.

“I could just fucking eat you up,” he kisses him deeply and bites down on his lower lip, like he’s proving his point. “With you spread out in front of me like an open invitation. How long have you been like this, huh? Waiting for me to tie you up and fuck you so hard you can barely move…”

Cas lets out a soft whine, and Dean feels his arms tug against their restraints. He’ll never be able to get over how hot it is that Cas lets himself be tied up, that he wants it, asks for it, begs for it if Dean teases him enough.

Behind them, he hears the sound of footsteps on carpet, followed by the creak of a door hinge and the clink of a belt being undone. Cas looks over Dean’s shoulder with a hazy sort of grin, like his biggest wish just came true.

“Hello, Sam.”

Dean turns around to see Sam already close behind him, knees pressing into the mattress and a trail of clothes on the floor. He reaches over to hook his fingers in the belt loops of Dean’s waistband, pressing himself gently into his back.

“Thought you said you were still in New Orleans, little brother.” Dean rolls his hips against Sam’s and lets the friction of his jeans scratch against his skin. He sees Cas reach his leg a bit further so he can slide his foot up the side of Sam’s thigh, and fuck if that isn’t hot.

“What,” Sam reaches a hand around and twists his necklace between his fingers, laying a hot, openmouthed kiss on the side of Dean’s neck, “and miss your birthday?”

“Hey,” he reaches a hand around to smack the side of Sam’s ass, “I said no chick flick moments.”

“I don’t really think this sort of scene would make it past the motion picture censorship board, Dean.” Cas tries his best to put on his serious voice, he really does, but it’s pretty much ruined by the fact that he’s been squirming since Sam walked through the door. Dean unbuttons his jeans and slides them down, making sure Cas can see the instant his cock springs free.

He’s had an unspoken rule pretty much since they met Cas (and a spoken rule between himself and Sam since they were much younger) that they’re not supposed to make a big deal out of his birthday. Somehow, though, they always manage to make a big deal out of it without telling him, and in ways he can’t bring himself to get upset about. For instance, Sam’s made his way around him and is kissing Cas with a sweetness that’s all at once heartwarming and scorchingly hot.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Cas,” he murmurs softly against his lips, sliding a hand up the side of Cas’s leg, running a fingertip over the curve of his hip and making him twitch. “I bet Dean just jumped right onto you, yeah? Can’t really blame him.” He glances up at Dean and then kisses Cas again, puts his whole body and soul into it with an intensity that even has Dean gasping. “Missed you so damn much…”

Dean throws his jeans and underwear to the side and leans back down over Cas, dragging his nails up his side just to watch him break the kiss and keen into Sam’s mouth. Sam reaches down between them to brush his fingers over Cas’s cock, teasing him for a bit before cupping his hand around it and stroking impossibly slowly.

“Easy now,” Dean grabs the lube off of the nightstand and leans over to give Sam a quick kiss. “We’re just getting started.” He slicks a couple of fingers up and slides them inside Cas, partly to make sure he’s ready and partly to tease him even further. The breathless gasp and feeling of Cas’s legs kicking ineffectually against the mattress is answer enough. Still, he can’t resist grinning at Cas as he spreads the lube over his cock. “You ready?”

Cas looks at him pleadingly. “Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Dean, _please._ ” He tugs his arms against the tie again, and Dean tugs his panties up enough to slide in. He doesn’t take it slow, not when Cas lets his head fall back and sighs like that the second he’s in.

“Dean,” he can’t even keep his eyes open, panting raggedly as Dean finds his rhythm. Sam puts a gentle hand behind his head, carding his fingers through his hair just tight enough for him to feel it.

“Hey, come on, Cas,” he teases, “look at him. Look at me.” Cas’s eyes flutter open, but Dean’s not really sure he sees them. Sam keeps talking in that way of his that’s emotional without being cheesy, somehow. “You’re so fucking hot like this, Cas. Just look at what you’re doing to him.” Dean’s pretty sure he looks completely out of control right now, with his breath hissing through his teeth and his gaze absolutely fixed on Cas.

“Dean, nn—ah!” Cas’s eyes squeeze shut again when Dean hauls one of his legs up over his shoulders and moves deeper into him, leans down and finds he has just enough room to bite down on the side of his neck. “Fuck!”

It drives him up the fucking wall when he can get Cas to swear, and he can see that Sam’s more than enjoying the view, but he gets the feeling his brother has further plans for tonight, so he looks at Sam and tilts his head to indicate Cas’s neglected cock. “Little help, Sammy?”

Sam grins like a tiger and reaches down to stroke Cas gently, and then a little less gently. He leans up and gives Dean a kiss, whispering just loudly enough for Cas to hear. “Make me proud, Dean. Wanna hear him _scream_.”

Dean nods and then hisses when Sam moves back and bites his shoulder. He turns his attention back to Cas and grabs hold of his hips, picking up speed and digging his nails into his skin. Sam gets his hand in Cas’s hair again and kisses him, leaning back now and again to let Dean hear the sounds he’s making. Cas’s back twists the way it always does when he’s close, and Sam starts to move his hand faster.

“That’s it, Cas. Fuck yeah, let me hear it.”

“Sam—ah, _ah!_ ” Cas’s eyes shut tight, and Dean can feel his body tense up. “Dean, don’t stop, don’t—!” And he does scream, and then his voice cuts out, and he screams again, and his whole body jerks violently when he comes. He stays like that for a long moment before collapsing back onto the bed, breathless and trembling. Sam reaches up with his dry hand and undoes his wrists, and his arms fall limply onto the bed. Dean pulls out of him slowly, and they both stay beside him until he recovers enough to sit up, again.

“You’ve made quite a mess of me.” He’s smiling in a warm, sated sort of way, like he can’t believe how lucky he is, and after a moment Dean can see the gleam of mischief return to his eyes. He tosses the panties to one side and looks at Sam directly, and his smile gets a bit of an edge to it. “I believe it’s our turn, now.”

“Think you might be right.” Sam chuckles softly.

“Not wasting any time, huh?” Dean runs his hands through Sam’s hair and draws him into a long kiss. “Maybe one of these days you’ll let me be Lucky Pierre, and we can have some real fun.”

“I cannot _believe_ you know what Lucky Pierre means.” Sam shakes his head, and then Dean hears the snap of the lube bottle opening. Sam gets behind him again and lets Dean lean against him, rubbing a warm fingertip right on his opening. A couple of gears click in Dean’s head.

“…that’s the hand Cas just came all over, isn’t it?”

“You’d better fuckin’ believe it,” Sam presses a fingertip in, and that’s just too hot for him to even handle. He groans softly and lets his head fall back, and Cas takes this opportunity to move closer and kiss his way up the side of his neck.

“Ah…” Dean pushes his hips down into Sam’s hand, rocking slowly back and forth when he adds another finger. Cas presses slow, wet kisses over his chest, adding a nip here and there when Dean is least expecting it. Sam curls his fingers quickly, and Dean gasps. “ _Fuck_ , Sammy!”

“That’s the idea, yeah.” Sam’s third finger slides in, and Dean’s just about to call him out on being a wiseass when he feels Cas’s fingers on his cock. He’s being almost as much of a tease as Dean was to him (emphasis on “almost”), but it still feels fucking incredible. He grabs hold of Cas’s shoulder with one hand and Sam’s hip with the other to keep himself steady. With no warning, Sam’s hand is gone, and he very nearly whines before he feels the head of Sam’s cock right against him.

“Ngh…” He feels Sam slide into him and digs his nails into Cas’s shoulder a little. Cas wraps his hand more fully around his cock, stroking him slowly. He pulls him closer so he can kiss him deeply, only moving back when he has to breathe.

“Dean, _fuck_ —” Sam shifts underneath him and starts fucking him harder, holding him by the hips and changing his angle just enough to make a difference. Dean’s head falls onto Cas’s shoulder and he pants roughly against his skin. As if in response, Cas grips him tighter, and he doesn’t remotely care that the sounds he’s making now are about half an octave higher than they could be.

“ _Aah_ —yes, oh fuck yes, ‘m gonna—!” Cas grabs his hair and pulls him into a bruising kiss, and just like that he’s gone, shaking in their arms and scratching a new set of marks down Cas’s back. He honest-to-god sees stars, and when he stops shaking like crazy, he just about falls on top of Cas. Sam reaches an arm around his chest to keep him steady, and he takes hold of his hand and clutches it tightly. Cas slows his hand down gradually before finally letting go of his cock. When Dean opens his eyes again, he can see Cas leaning over his shoulder to give Sam a kiss, murmuring words of encouragement against his lips that Dean can’t really hear.

Sam’s thrusts become jerky and uneven, and he comes with a shout, Cas’s fingers tugging at his hair and his hand squeezing Dean’s hard enough to hurt. They stay like that for a bit, with Sam and Dean still catching their breath and Cas running his hands gently over their shoulders. Eventually, Dean eases himself off of Sam, and they all sit there looking at each other with stupid, exhausted smiles until they sort of collectively decide that they all need a shower.

Since no shower known to mankind is big enough for all three of them, they let Cas go first. Sam and Dean lean against the towel rack, feeling rather sticky but unbelievably happy. Sam glances back into their room and chuckles softly.

“It looks like a bomb went off made entirely out of clothes.”

Dean cranes his neck over to get a better look, and Sam’s absolutely right. There’s a trail of plaid and denim leading from the door all the way to where Cas threw his stockings. When he looks back at Sam, he’s not laughing anymore, but looking at his necklace with a weird half-smile.

“Still can’t believe you wear that thing in the shower.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dean cocks an eyebrow at him and grins.

“I swear to god, you talk about me being cheesy, but—” Whatever Sam was about to call him gets cut off by the _thunk_ of the shower turning off and the clatter of Cas opening the curtain. He grabs his towel and steps out, drying his hair off first.

“You can go next, Dean. I’ve made sure there’s enough hot water for Sam to go after you.” He pats Dean on the shoulder, and who’s Dean to turn down an offer like that? He turns the water up nice and hot, and from the sound of it, Cas doesn’t leave, instead choosing to stand next to Sam.

“…you can go put some pajamas on, you know.” He can hear the smile in Sam’s voice.

“I like it here.”

The only reason Dean lets himself grin this stupidly is because he’s got the shower curtain between him and Sam.

He doesn’t take as long as he usually does, just because he’s really, _really_ tired, and he and Cas lean quietly against each other until Sam finishes washing off. They all start laughing when he opens the curtain and looks at them, standing there in their towels for no reason other than the fact that they didn’t want to leave.

When they’re all dried off and have pulled on their pajamas, Sam and Dean curl up on either side of Cas, who looks between the two of them with the serene sort of happiness he always has when they go to sleep beside him. Sam and Dean each curl an arm over him, and together they keep each other warm and safe as they drift off to sleep.


End file.
